Part 62

A Little Child

Come hither, little child, And bring thy heart to me; Thou art the true and unbeguiled, So full of melody.

The presence of a child Has taught me more of heaven, And more my heart has reconciled Than Greece's immortal Seven.

For when I sometimes think That life is void of song, Before a little child I sink And own that I am wrong.

And lo my heart grows bright That was so dark and drear, Till in the tender morning light I find the Lord is near.

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The Divine Presence

O, when the Lord is near, The rainbow banners wave; The star I follow shineth clear, I am no more a slave.

As if to honor Him, My work is true and free; And flowing to the shining brim, The cup of heaven I see.

I marvel not that song Should be employment there In which the innumerable throng Their palms of triumph bear;

Or that the choral strife And golden harps express The stirring labors of the life Of peace and righteousness.

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Death in Life

The song of work, I know, Has here its minor tone; And in its ever-changing flow, Death, death in life is known.

Discordant notes, alas! So often cleave the air And smite the music as they pass, And leave their poison there.

And oft, ah me! from some Wild region of the heart Will startling intimations come, And peace at once depart.

With open foes without, And secret foes within, His heart must needs be brave and stout That would life's battle win.

Evil

In the great wilderness Through which I hold my way, Is there no refuge from distress, Where foes are kept at bay?

Saint Anthony of old Could not from evil flee; The desert cave was found to hold His mortal enemy.

And knew untiring Paul The world's relentless scorn; While in his flesh, amid it all, He bore another thorn.

Our common lot is cast In a great camp of pain! Until the night be over-past, Some foe will yet remain.

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With His Foes

The king of beasts was dead-- By an old hero slain; Did dreams of honey for his bread Dance through the hero's brain?

Or did he chafe at this: That pain is everywhere? Down, down, thou fabled right to bliss, Life is to do and bear!

Beguiled, enslaved, made blind, Yet unsubdued in will, He kept the old heroic mind To serve his country still.

And in recovered might Pulled the tall pillars down, Died with his foes--that was his right-- And built his great renown.